


Poison leaves a bitter taste

by The_trash_cannot



Category: Hamlet - Shakespeare
Genre: Death, Horatio POV, Hurt with very little comfort, M/M, Stream of Consciousness, Suicidal Thoughts, ghost!Horatio, this is just sad folks, vague existentialism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-13 06:26:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21239651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_trash_cannot/pseuds/The_trash_cannot
Summary: I don’t regret taking that sword for you, so don’t regret that I did.





	Poison leaves a bitter taste

You were so different than everyone else, you know. 

Maybe that’s why I first loved you. You were so mysterious, and something about that look in your eyes made me think that you could have the world in an instant. But then I knew you, and I willingly jumped to their depths. 

Then everything happened and you fell apart, and I could only watch and try to catch the pieces. There were days I wasn’t certain if you recognised me, days I feared I would lose you.

But when you held me for the last time, I saw the man I knew in your eyes. 

I don’t regret taking that sword for you, so don’t regret that I did. I know you’ve thought a thousand times how you could’ve saved me, but I wouldn’t have wanted it, not if the price was you. 

I’ve thought about it too, replayed every second of that night. I hadn’t wished to die, but the sword was for you and there was no time for thoughts. Strange for me to say that, you were always the one for action. 

I remember when I died you begged me not to go, and please believe me, I kept that promise we made all those years ago. I haven’t left your side for an instant.

I know that every moment you spend here pains you, and I’m sorry that I asked you to stay

I remember how I used to hold your hands and kiss your scars, and now I do the same and hope that somehow you can feel it. 

There are so many things that went unsaid between us, so I try to say them now. I tell you every morning that I love you and I give you a kiss that you will never feel again. Every time you stare at the ring you gave that I wore on a chain around my neck until I died and you tell me that you want to be with me again, I take your face in my hands and I tell you that I made a choice so you could live.

Sometimes I wonder what will happen in your life. Part of me hopes that you will be happy with someone. The other part of me is far more selfish, and knows that you will keep your promise and that even though I am dead you won’t find another.

Maybe I should hate myself for not wanting you to find another. Yet I remember how you were happy with me, and I can’t be angry. Not at me, and certainly not at you. 

I just wish you could stop being angry at yourself, too. I know you always kept it together for me, so I wish you knew I’m still here with you. That way, maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright again.

I can keep hoping, can’t I?


End file.
